I remember a scene from the movie “Sea Biscuit” where Jeff Bridges’ character, Charles S. Howard,  entertains extravagantly attired guests in an elegant mountain home.  Their revelry is interrupted by a radio announcer describing the great stock market crash of 1929.  That moment signifies the end of a prosperous era for the nation, and the beginning of the Great Depression.  I feel like I lived that moment this weekend, though I was somewhat more casually attired.

Toria and I joined two other couples in Blowing Rock, North Carolina where we rented a spectacular house with a view of Grandfather Mountain.  With towering, wood-paneled walls and ceilings, the house had as many cubic feet as a small grocery store.  Griff and I played golf on Friday afternoon, and were paired with a couple who would have been of voting age when Seabiscuit beat War Admiral.  Another of my friends, Mark, was unable to join us for golf because he works in private wealth management and spent the day counseling concerned clients.  He joined us after golf, and though I’m sure that he was eager to be free of the topic, our conversation often turned to the current economic crisis.

Friday evening we enjoyed fine scotch followed by a meal of pasta and excellent wine in the cavernous dining room.  After dinner, we descended a couple flights of stairs to the recreation area where Griff established his dominance in ping pong.  At least once an hour someone would comment, “Man, this place is huge!”

In the morning we dined on omelets.  Afterward, the men ascended to the loft where we sipped coffee prepared with coffee house beans and watched the Davis Cup while discussing economic Armageddon.  We drove to the nearby Blue Ridge Parkway where we found a trail that wrapped around a lake.  As we walked, we debated man’s capacity to change himself.  Later, the girls watched movies, and the guys continued the ping pong wars while watching football.  I watched my Volunteers lay another egg against Florida unti I was mercifully pulled away by our dinner reservations at the Gamekeeper Restaurant.  The Gamekeeper features exotic game and local seasonal vegetables.  The wine flowed as we ate alligator, ostrich, and bison in the shabby elegance of the mountain lodge. 

That evening Amy pulled out her new bass, Mark his new electric, and me my acoustic guitar.  We played and sang for a couple of hours while entertaining late night, wine infused fantasies of a career in music.  Toria half listened to us while she watched her Bulldogs even the SEC’s score against the Pac-10.

In the morning we drove into charming Blowing Rock where we enjoyed another full breakfast.  We returned to the house, and it was time for Toria and me to go.  We reluctantly gathered our bags, loaded the car and said our goodbyes.

My only complaint about the house was the TVs.  It wasn’t the number – there were 6.  But they were all small.  I think the biggest was 24 inches.  They seemed absurdly out of scale in the grand house. 

I wrote about these same friends in an earlier post.  Other than Toria, all of us went to college together.  Old friends offer perspective, encouragement and keep you humble.  There’s no need to fake it with people who knew you when.  During our dinner at the Gamekeeper we asked questions like “If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?”, or “If you could change one thing about your life, what would it be?”  Griff suggested the question “If you could change one thing about your spouse, what would it be?”, but we nixed that one before it turned the evening sour.

I can remember a time, 20 years ago, when we managed to enjoy life while joined in collegiate poverty.  That’s where we were when the stock market crashed in October of 1987.  We noted it then, but it was a quickly forgotten abstraction for a college student.  Today’s crisis seems far more palpable.

The Gilded Age actually didn’t end with the stock market crash.  The “Gilded Age” (a term coined by Mark Twain) was a time of economic growth and conspicuous consumption that lasted from about 1877-1893.  Vanderbilt, Carnegie, Rockefeller, and J.P. Morgan were some of the notables of the era, their great wealth and influence evidenced by the fact that their names still carry weight some 120 years later.  The Gilded Age ended with the Panic of 1893, which brought on a depression lasting until 1897.  More prosperity followed that (though not uninterrupted), ending abruptly again with the crash of 1929 and the ensuing Great Depression.   

Many have described the 20 years leading up to 2008 as a new Gilded Age.  Consumption has never been more conspicuous, or more democratic.  Unlike the concentrated wealth of the robber barons of the late 19th century,  even the common man of recent years has had access to houses, cars and HDTV’s (apparently excepting the one who owns the house we rented this weeked).  It appears that we may be coming to yet another abrupt interruption of prosperity, the end of an era perhaps, but not the end of prosperity.   Humans have demonstrated nothing if not an ability to survive, endure and even proper amidst hardship.

I thoroughly enjoyed the setting of our weekend in the mountains, and would gladly do it again.  But I recognize that the joy of getting together with these friends is that we somehow manage to recapture the magic of being 19 and debating the great questions of life while eating pizza in the dorm.  The trappings of big rental houses, fine wine and exotic meals may disappear, but the enduring frienships will remain

I’m not made of stone, and I am concerned about these times and what they may mean for my family.  But I also know, and this weekend reinforced my knowledge, that a man who is rich in friends is rich indeed.  With friends and faith, most anything can be endured.  Without them, even material prosperity is intolerable.

As I continue to reflect on my half-assembled thoughts from the weekend, I think I’ll retire to my own very humble family room where I can contemplatively enjoy a show on my 1080 dpi HDTV.  Because in the end, it really is the simple things that matter 😉